Love Blossoms
by Miss Aisling
Summary: Love blooms in the most unexpected places. It proves that there is no end to possibilities. Darien is about to realize that love holds no class distinction - falling in love can have that effect. But what if his beloved isn't all that she seems?
1. Chapter One

Love Blossoms

The rating R is for mild violence and sexual references…nothing more. I always rate high, just in case.

Okay, I KNOW I write a lot from Darien/Mamoru's POV but it is just soooo angst ridden. He is every writers dream drama queen (Uh…King). Well, this story is going to be my first attempt at an epic romance - with a twist, of course… Enjoy!

This is set in 19th century Ireland, about the year 1980.

Feedback is the crux of writing.

This story is mine, but the characters are not… But you knew that, didn't you?

I remember how this whole thing started, the mess I have so carefully created for myself. It was early last year, just before Easter. That was when I first met her.

I was waiting for my usual train. The station was crowded with its usual surly businessmen, and seating was in short supply. I stood by the ticket booth - apprehensively watching the passengers come and go. I had a substantial wait for my train and I certainly did not intend to stand the whole time. I looked at my watch, then the train timetable and smiled as I ascertained the proximity of the next engine.

Sure enough, within ten minutes the chug of the train could be heard not too far off. Some of the awaiting passengers readied their belongings and stood expectantly. I watched as a tall, scrawny man on a nearby bench tentatively fingered the handle on his suitcase, occasionally casting the approaching locomotive a fleeting glance.

I had found my prey.

I sauntered closer to the bench as inconspicuously as I could. The now deafening thud of the train was drowning any and all sound. As the tracks screeched and the train came to a rolling halt, the tall man rose deftly from his seat and joined the rush to enter the awaiting carriage.

I watched them for only a moment, wondering how such dignified men could behave like small children in a chocolate shop. They acted as if the seats on the train were precious stones or piles of gold - not grimy, dirty seats lined with course, itchy material. It was something I always found mind boggling.

For that split second my thoughts wandered, my targeted seat was quickly taken up by the most captivating creature to ever grace my humble world. Yet still, my belligerent personality would not relent and I inadvertently found my derisive ego emerge.

"Excuse me miss," I said curtly, "But I was waiting for that seat."

"Were you?" She looked at me, a doubtful expression in her deep cerulean eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't know." She then concentrated on the tracks as if waiting for a train to instantly appear.

I could feel a vein throb at the corner of my mouth. Such beautiful blonde curls I had never seen before, but that did not mean I would let my pride slide. "Well, I have just told you, and I have quite a long wait too. I'm sure a lovely young lady like you would give a seat to an old fellow like me." I smiled seductively emphasizing my subtle flirting.

She blushed at the compliment and smiled back, much more innocently though. "I would, but I too have a long wait… And you don't seem that old, mister. I'd say…twenty four."

My astonishment at her accuracy must have shown on my face because she gave a triumphant giggle. "I knew it! I'm never wrong." She winked and turned her attention back to the tracks. Her inexorable blue pupils regarded me from the corner of her eye, a slow smile twisting her rosebud lips. "Would it be rude of me to ask your name?"

I flashed her my tried and true, knee weakening smile. In the past, much more elegant and assertive women than her have turned to putty at that cocky grin, but this girl just looked at me expectantly.

That was an enormous blow to my esteemed ego.

"My name's Darien Collins," I said, extending my hand in a friendly manner.

She took it eagerly - her soft as silk fingers slid slowly along mine, as if she feared I would pull away at any moment. She shook my proffered hand with unparalleled vigor.

"Serena McMillan. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Her formal greeting brought a smile to my face and lightened my somewhat tetchy mood.

"So," I said conversationally. "Which train are you waiting for?"

"Um…" She checked her ticket. "The 5:30 to Galway, how far away is that?"

"Wow, a long time. It's only 11:15 now."

"No, I mean the distance. How far is it to Galway?" She looked a little forlorn, like a child who had gotten separated from a parent.

"It's on the west coast. That's the other side of the country."

Oh," she said, lowering her head slightly. Her behavior pulled at my heartstrings. She seemed to be all alone like myself, and her obvious naivety was something that should never have gone unprotected. I knew from experience that there were people who would take advantage of her in a heartbeat, and I would have been a fool to walk away.

Since my own destination was Galway, I decided to do this girl a favor. No one should have to wait so long for a train, especially when the journey itself would take near nine hours by steam engine. "May I see your ticket?"

She took a quick look at me before handing it over. And there it was, written in black and white.

-5:30 - Dublin to Galway - one way-

"If you will let me, I'll exchange this for one on my train. I'm going to Galway also, but my train is at 2:30."

Her eyes widened. "Oh no, Sir, I couldn't possibly-"

Her refusal was cut short. I walked up to the ticket booth and greeted the haggard old woman behind the weathered brass bars.

"Mornin'," I said cheerfully. "Could I change this ticket for one at 2:30?"

She reached a gnarled hand for the slip of paper and scoffed superiorly. "This is a third class ticket boy. No you can't."

I bit back my temper and regarded her with polite tolerance. "Well…can I buy a first class one?" I glanced at Miss McMillan. She blanched, half rising from her seat, obviously considering coming over.

"That would cost plenty. Most lads like you wouldn't earn the price of such a ticket in a year." She plastered a sickeningly evil grin to her face and called, "Next there…"

This opportunity was too tempting. This woman had deliberately challenged me, and I fully intended to exceed it.

"Sure," I said reaching nonchalantly into my breast pocket. "Is that enough?" I piled a small stack of money on the weathered booth sill. The woman's smile dropped momentarily before it was resumed with strained effort. She exchanged the ticket and wished me a dubious good morning, to which I gave no thank you.

I was used to emerging the superior.

When I returned to her, Miss McMillan was as white as a sheet. "Mr. Collins," she said, breathlessly. "I really can't accept that. I very much can't afford it."

I smiled at her tenderly. "Well… If you sit in a compartment with me, and keep me company during the trip, I will consider it a payment." I realized too late what I had implied, and received a firm slap across the face.

One I justly deserved.

"No you misunderstand," I said hastily as she raised her hand again. "I just wanted someone to talk to. I'm on my own up here in Dublin. Such a long trip is terrible when you have to be on your own."

She lowered her hand slowly, looking me over. I could see the recognition on her face. My expensive navy colored suit was perfectly fitting and embroidered with my family insignia. My hair was cut about an inch and a half long and combed neatly - not a hair out of place. My shoes were polished to within an inch of ware, and tied with measured accuracy. My jacket was pristine, crease free and accentuated my broad shoulders. I looked respectable, I had made sure of that, and she knew it, too.

"Alright, I suppose I won't want to spend nine hours alone on a train."

"Thank you." I paused, taking note of her simple dress and modest luggage. This girl was neither rich nor luxurious, but her ineptitude held an adorable charm I found hard to resist.

"Have you ever been on a train?" I asked her, genuinely surprised to see her shake her head.

"No… I have never been in the need of one. My last job wasn't exactly…flexible"

"What was your job, a maid?" I looked at her soft hands, and could tell she had not had a hard life. But still, something seemed off about the way she avoided the issue.

"No… So, what are you in Dublin for? Do you live here?"

"I don't, I just came up to visit my sister, Rosa. She has a terrible flu. The doctors are really losing hope." I coughed to relieve the lump in my throat - my sister was my only sibling and her illness had been a touchy subject for me. Miss McMillan took it as a sign not to pry, and looked straight out across the tracks.

She then said something that could not have been more unexpected. "Do you know what I love about this time of year?"

I shook my head, no.

"The new blossoms! Look over there!" She pointed to a willow tree across the tracks.

The aged tree's roots were covered in moss and weeds, and the bark was ripped and vandalized with cuts and carvings. But above all the ugly twisted limbs, was a beautiful full head of lavender blossoms, intermingled with white and green - a breathtaking sight.

"See? Even things that seem impossible can sometimes spawn miracles." She looked at me with a gentle smile before averting her gaze and blushing. "Sorry, I can be such a romantic."

"Don't be embarrassed, you're right. Everything will work out fine." There was a comfortable silence. One I did not wish to break, but I still had so much to say to this wonderful person. I smiled at her, renewing my cocky grin, "So are you nervous about your trip…?"

We continued to talk for long after that. Looking back on the first time we met, it never ceases to amaze me how trusting Serena was. I was a strange man at least four years her senior. And yet, she heartily made chitchat and politely argued with me the entire wait for our train. Her lightheartedness was a quality I was not used to, being the son of a distinguished politician, and it was something I would remember wishing to experience more of - albeit, I knew that was a wistful thought.

She talked of Dublin as if it were the center jewel of a precious crown. I found her awe of the vast population a little amusing, but nothing short of intriguing. Throughout our conversation, I was astounded by her view of ordinary things. A sunrise over the river - the red and orange hue of an autumn tree - the remarkable sculpture littered around the city. She treated them all with a reverence that was foreign to me, and I envied that purity for its scarcity.

"If you love the city, why are you leaving?" To my bemusement she merely smiled, averting her gaze back to the willow tree.

"Sometimes change is necessary. Who knows? Some day I may come back…" She trailed her sentence a little, absently twisting a lively curl with nimble fingers. "Do you think that a woman should do what she likes?"

I too looked at the tree. The wind licked the branches, making the inanimate entity dance to an unseen tune. "I think anyone should do what they want, regardless of gender."

She nodded, settling eyes of firm determination on me. "I got a job at a girl's workhouse. The lady there got me a job in Galway. I'm to work for a family…as a maid, I think…" She looked at her hands, her fingers intertwining nervously. "What do those girls do?"

"How would I know that?"

"Well from the look of your clothes and your manner, I'd say you're a rich boy."

I couldn't help but laugh at her astute observation - it was absolutely precious. "You could put it like that, I suppose."

"Well then, what do they do?"

I thought for a moment. I had never actually seen these girls at work but I had some vague idea of their duties. "Well…they clean mostly. There are a lot of them, constantly moving around the house. But I rarely see them because they're not meant to be seen, if it can be helped."

She sighed, a look of worry creasing her pretty face. I was becoming more fond of her by the second, and wished greatly to be able to see her again after our train ride. But that would probably never happen. The other families I knew were very possessive of new girls, and rarely let them leave the house. I pitied them, they missed so much of the beautiful world, and now Serena - lively, caring, wondrous Serena - would miss it too.

That was another thing that heightened my amazement. Somewhere along the line of our conversation, we had dispensed with formalities - a thing I seldom do. She managed to wrap her slight fingers around my heart, without me even knowing. And that terrified me, considering such feelings were new and unfamiliar to someone as reclusive as me.

I think I knew as early as that that my feelings for her were more than genial, but to go as far as to say love at first sight… That would be ludicrous and illogical. Such a thing in shallowness is only paralleled with absurdity. But there was definitely something there, as to what I do not know.

The distant sound of a train snapped me from my brooding thoughts, and I felt a pang of loss as it approached. My time with her would be short, but I would cherish every moment - that I promised.

"Are you ready, Serena?" I asked, taking her hand tentatively.

"To face my new life? Yes I am."

"Wonderful… But for now, let's start with your first train ride."

Chapter two will be coming soon.

Thanks to my new BETA girl, Nania9, who puts up with my lengthy explanations of what not to change. And to Giniro-sama, who MADE me write this story for myself. He and Nani-chan are conspiring against me .

Tell me what you think.

: ) Aísling a.k.a. Lingy ( :


	2. Chapter Two

Love Blossoms - Chapter Two

This chapter is a little longer. Alas, I had wanted to avoid a really lengthy story. But it seems that I am becoming long winded beyond my own devices, and I am starting to write ANs like a nineteenth century woman. Ah well, let me know if this chapter bodes well. I implore criticism.

Also, please note that I picked a difficult year to work with (1890 - to refresh your memory). It was a time when the old aristocracy was slowly being replaced by democracy and Free Rule. If I have gotten anything wrong, please let me know. And furthermore, enjoy my attempt at romance.

And please e-mail me. I love to hear what you think.

I'm borrowing the characters… Can you guess from whom?

--------------------

The first time we met was absolutely magical, I won't deny. And for a long time after that, my thoughts centered on what was, in reality, less than a day.

Every scented rose, every golden sky - they all provoked memories of the wonderful mysterious girl I met on my trip to Dublin. In that short space of time I absorbed her, just breathed her in. It was like warm sunshine or a hot cup of lemon tea. She spread through me from head to toe - warming places I never knew existed. Her profound energy was infectious, and I cannot remember ever expressing as much joviality, as when I was with her. Truly, it was the highpoint of my trivial existence.

Yet sadly, the experience proved that all good things do indeed come to an end, and parting really is such sweet sorrow - because with every moment I spent away from her, I wished to be near her that much more.

So, as fate can sometimes present an enigma of questionable purpose, so can destiny provide a means to those who seek to solve it! And my means came but three weeks later

-

I sat in my usual chair - the bright morning sun was penetrating the intricate diaphanous curtains. The distant sun cast a hazy butter yellow hue over the sloping hills of our land, waking all those who tried futilely to sleep through nature's show of grandeur.

It was an unusual morning, as far as most go. There were dozens of guests staying at the house for the upcoming Ball, and yet there was no one to be seen. The hallways were hollow and foreboding, the eerie silence broken only by scuffling kitchen girls and parlor maids. The preparations were under way and our usually tranquil mornings turned chaotic over night. But all the same, there was a solemnity in the air that was almost tangible, and it was as unwelcome as a midnight visitor, fracturing the peaceful sleep of happily slumbering families.

The grounds too were ghostly in their own right, strangely foreign and unearthly. Such a beautiful home as ours, situated in the heart of an uncultivated forest clearing, was meant to house the laughter of many joyous children. At that time it seemed devoid of all life, though. Dead and uncannily bleak!

Surrounded by thistle and dandelions in spring, and gently powdered with snow in the depths of winter, our Manner was once a wonderland of childish delights, with new secrets waiting to be discovered by anyone who wished to seek them. Alas, that life, that exuberance, has been neatly swept under the rug, and few now acknowledge what was once the heart of the forest.

My parents act as if such a vivid ambiance had never lit these dreary halls, and perhaps it would be better for everyone if that were true.

Yes! The absence of my sister, Rosa, was beginning to take effect. For it had been only one week ago that we received news of her passing, and what little light she left behind her in her wake fizzled out immediately with such despicable news.

My parents departed for Dublin the moment the message came, leaving the preparations of the Ball in the hands of Raye and me.

It seemed a bitter irony that we celebrate at such a time. The wound of loss was fresh and festering, and gave no sign of healing at all. It sickened me that, even with my sister's death, I could not forget about Serena. I loathed the selfishness that seemed to lurk within my benevolent soul. No good would come of the self satisfaction that I would no doubt feel from seeing her again. I did not want to use her as a tool to fix my shaken self esteem.

Looking up from my long forgotten book, I watched my only other sibling enter the room. Raye was disheveled and exhausted. She walked stoically across the room and perched on a nearby sofa with respectable etiquette and poise.

"Darien, your tuxedo is ready for the Ball. I had them stitch your initials into the family crest for a touch of personality. Would that do you?"

I nodded, closing my book. "Do you need my help, dear sister?" I asked quietly, grasping her hand in mine.

She sobbed, quickly masking it with a cough. "No, that is unnecessary. The girls and I are perfectly capable of the work."

We sat quietly for a long moment, neither knowing quite what to say. Raye and Rosa were identical twins, the closest of sisters. Their looks betrayed their personalities, as they were completely opposite in every possible way. Raye was strong and resilient, radiating regality and composure along with a charismatic personality. Whereas, Rosa was shy, demure and sweet - a true romantic to her heart, whose love could find no bounds, no end. Such mismatched siblings were a rarity, but despite this they were the best of friends and relied on no one but each other.

So naturally, Raye took our dear sister's death the hardest, and became much more introvert and placid. It was worrying at first - such characteristics are incongruous for her. But after the first week or so, we realized that grief had stricken her to within an inch of her sanity, and that only time would heal the massive hole left by the departure of a dearly loved one.

"Who is coming to the Ball?" I asked breaking what was fast becoming an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, Lord Gregory and his wife Lady Amy are still to come, and I believe they will arrive tomorrow. Lord Andrew and his wife Lady Mina, too. Otherwise, all have arrived." She gave me a curious look, as if she were considering whether or not she should continue. "Andrew and Mina have been having a bit of a lovers tiff. I have been informed that they are arriving separately…"

"Really? I thought they were very much in love?"

"We all did. But perhaps it was not meant to be… Maybe, maybe you could try to reunite them?"

My eyes locked onto hers instantly, catching the hint of a mischievous sparkle deep down itching to shine through. "Your motives…" I sang accusingly.

"Oh, please Darien, you are so very good at it. If it weren't for you, Lita and Ken would be fighting to the death." She gave my hand an encouraging squeeze.

"Raye, what can I possibly do? I do not have a clue what love is like. How am I supposed to guide others down such a path?"

She slumped in acquiescence. "Fine, fine, you may let you dearest cousin lose his one and only love…"

"Raye, you are toying with my good nature," I said proudly, grinning at her calculated manipulation.

"Me? How can you accuse me of such foul play? I am innocence personified."

My chortle echoed around the cavernous parlor, Raye was always a pleasure to talk to. "Alright, I will try to reconcile the dregs of their dubious relationship."

"Oh, thank you!" She leapt at me, enveloping me in an asphyxiating grip - releasing just as quick, as not to tarnish her 'Ice Queen' reputation. "You will not regret it!"

"I hope not. When are they to arrive?"

"Mina will be here later today. Andrew will be here the night before the Ball. They are being so childish…"

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder though…"

She raised a wry eyebrow. "Oh? And since when are you the type to recite such drivel?"

I had the courtesy to blush at her astute observation. Being a skeptic, I never did hold romantic ideals. But as of late, my perception of those emotions had changed considerably to nothing short of awe and wistfulness.

I shrugged off her accusation, dampening the stain of my cheeks with a casual lean on one arm. "I do not recite drivel. It is an apt statement, rooted in philosophy. Your ignorance is disheartening, dear sister."

She smiled sheepishly - Raye never was one for books. I could have told her the sky was actually light green and she would have believed it.

Unknowingly naïve, her blindness is her downfall.

"Oh, I see. Well in that case, such insight will do you well in the pursuit of love."

"What do you mean by that?" I dropped my book. The sound reverberated around the room, startling Raye and raising a fine dust from the moth-eaten rug.

"Andrew and Mina… What has gotten into you? You have been very edgy since..."

I crouched down to pick up my book and strode nonchalantly to the bookcase on the far side of the room, trying to mask my curious outburst. "Raye, it is nothing… Look at the time, it is near noon. Should you not be preparing the Ballroom?"

A wary look crept over her features as she regarded my behavior. But with one glance at the clock, her face claimed an ashen hue and she sauntered from the room with all the speed elegance would allow.

I sighed deeply. My underlying emotions were starting to unravel, to be seem by others, and what would I receive but ridicule? What good could possibly come from such a revelation? Raye of all people would think so little of me if I were to succumb to those sentiments.

I couldn't handle the loss of another sister.

I stole myself there and then, resolved to put all thoughts of her aside. No matter, it could never be…

We were of the most differential backgrounds imaginable.

-

I awoke from my afternoon nap to the sound of a commotion in the front courtyard, to which my room stood adjacent. I rose and dressed quickly, seeing an approaching carriage on the stony path to the house. As visitors were rare considering our remoteness to the town, when someone arrived there was usually a welcome party assembled at the main entrance.

I had no doubts that Lady Mina was the one arriving.

Although she was a lesser educated women of our class, her charm was pertinent and very appealing. No one ever left a conversation with her with anything less than a smile.

I reached the courtyard moments before the horses were pulled to a halt. The gathering crowd consisted of the guests and Raye at the front, servants respectfully at the back. I joined my sister, smiling coyly at some of the more favorable ladies as I did so. I may have had strong feelings for Serena, but I was still a man. And it was expected that I show interest in at least one. I did not want rumors spread about my preferences.

The click of the carriage door ushered the crowd to a tentative silence. But what happened next left me without a breath or heartbeat to spare.

Mina's lady in waiting alit from the vessel with cautious speed. She fumbled with the side step of the carriage - what she lacked in knowledge she compensated for with haste. Her soft little hands pulled at the coarse metal, the protruding edges scraping at her tender flesh. When the steps clapped to the stone pavement below, she hurried round the back to heft the luggage from its precarious rack.

Mina dropped gently from her seat and regarded her with sincerity. "Serena, you needn't hurry. There is no rush - we shall be here a good many weeks."

Serena blushed lightly and bowed low. "Forgive me, Ma'am, I didn't mean to-"

"Oh come dear, drop the formalities. You may call me Lady Mina." Mina cast a glance round the crowd and spotted me at the foremost. "Ah, Darien! What a pleasure it is to see you again."

Serena gasped - her eyes flew to mine to confirm that it was truly me. I held her stare for a timeless moment - hundreds of emotions were communicated with less than a breath. I broke the gaze ruefully and plastered on my public smile. "Mina, you look wonderful. How was the trip?"

Her gesture was 'so so' as she stifled a yawn. "It was uneventful. My new lady in waiting was delightful company, however." She gestured toward a humble Serena, who stood aside from her mistress. "Can one of your girls settle her into the servants' quarters?"

Raye brought forward a shy chamber maid, giving her a cordial command. "Molly, please escort Serena to her room. Make sure she can find her way round the house."

I chanced one more glance at Serena. Her expression was one of complete sadness. It was endlessly confusing. Mina was by far the kindest Lady she could ask for. What reason could she possibly have to be so miserable? True, she did not strike me as the type to be a maid, but that was both irrelevant and circumstantial.

My enigma had evolved, becoming intricate to the point of inanity.

Raye smiled fondly at our newest guest. "Well, Mina, why don't we head inside for some tea? I'm sure Darien can amuse himself with other matters."

I nodded politely. "Of course, I shall see you later, Mina."

When the small assembly dispersed, I ambled toward the kitchen to wait. I had plenty of time on my hands, and Serena would have to come out sooner or later.

Although I would have proffered the former!

I walked casually to the door, but I froze when two familiar voices reached my ears.

"…and I don't think-"

"Nonsense. Now, Serena, let me tell you of the house." There was a little shuffling as if from moving chairs, before Molly continued informally. "We all get up around four-"

"Four? You don't really expect me to-"

"Yes, Serena. You must get up at four to prepare breakfast. There are over fifty guests staying at the Manner right now. We need all the help we can get."

I heard a tremendous sigh. "I've never had to get up so early. I don't think it's possible. Can I never sleep in? Maybe I could tend to the stables instead?""

Molly laughed heartily. "Oh you are impetuous. What would Lady Mina say if she were to hear you speak like that?"

Serena coughed lightly, making no attempt to mask her change of subject. "Molly? What is Lord Darien like?"

I held my breath, unable to believe she had asked that question. Did she think of me as much as I thought of her? Were her feelings for me more than platonic also?

"Lord Darien? Why would you ask about him? What does he have to do with our work?"

There was a notable silence. "I was just intrigued by him. He seems quite aloof."

"Sometimes he can be. My Lord is a dignified man. He relies on himself alone, and from what I have seen he tends to keep it that way. Despite this he is quite popular with the Ladies though. But to be honest I don't see what is so wonderful about him."

"Don't you?" Serena's voice was a little husky, but she cleared her throat. "A man as handsome as him would be expected to have a fiancé, or at least a mistress…."

"Yes, I hear he has several mistresses, but his relationships have never been anything more than fleeting. You are not interested in him…are you Serena?"

"No!" Her answer was much too quick. "I just thought he was, different…" Her sentence tapered off to a whisper, and no more was said between the two that was audible from my strenuous position.

I stood on the kitchen stoop, mesmerized. What had I just witnessed? Serena had feelings for me? It was hard to comprehend. I still did not recognize what I was feeling for her. But did that mean I should let her feelings languish? After all, my feelings could yet unfold and reveal themselves as love. Was her heart worth toying with to explore my own emotions?

None of my rambling thoughts really mattered, I was still unsure as to whether she really did desire me. But the chaos helped put her out of my mind, and it lessened the progress of my thundering heart.

I berated myself. If I didn't stop those thoughts soon, my hopes would forever be higher than my pride could rescue.

Amid my attempt at composure, the kitchen door swung open, revealing a blurred silhouette. Darkness had ascended without my awareness, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

There she was, Serena. Every one of my questioning thoughts silenced instantly leaving nothing but incoherent advocates. They urged me to spill my soul on that doorstep, taunting me with images of what could come of it - to my inexorable chagrin.

I sought her eyes, watching as the emotive orbs were cloaked with hard determination. I then realized that that was not an expression that suited her beautiful face.

"Can I be of service, Sir?"

My next chapter will continue from here. I hope this was okay, I would hate to disappoint. I know that I have not really focused on Serena, but there is method to my madness. Soon enough you will see my plot unravel. It just needs a little preparation, so bear with me.

Feedback is more than welcome. Please point out all my mistakes.

: ) Aísling a.k.a. Lingy ( :


	3. Chapter Three

Love Blossoms - Chapter Three

I have eased up on the 'olden-timey' talk due to all the complaintsI have been recieving. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. do not own you-know-what, and you know who does.

-

I watched her shadowed figure for only a moment on that step - a blissful timeless moment. The light accentuated her curves and cast a deep shadow in her eyes. It was a hypnotic vision of an ethereal being far beyond my reach, and for the first time in my life I had doubts about my intentions, and yes, even my situation.

But these doubts were precursors of my other problems, ones I dare not even think of in her presence.

Upon realizing who I was, she gasped, bringing one hand to her mouth to dispel the traitorous noise. Those eyes, those infinite puddles of emotion, conveyed her shock and unease to me. Unease? What reasons had I ever given her to be wary of me?

"Serena? Is something wrong?" I briefly caught a glimpse of Molly's blue percale dress, as she moved towards the door inquiringly.

Serena twirled on her heel with all the speed of a bullet to face the curious girl. With a sure rip, the coarse linen of her dress tangled on the bolt of the door. She was sent tumbling to the floor, right on top of poor bemused Molly. A light scuffle ensued whilst both tried to regain their composure - Serena failing miserably considering her dress left her no decency. With a look of pure apology, she kicked the door shut with a tremendous clamor, effectively subduing all light that lent itself to the inhospitable darkness I found myself in.

I did not know whether to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, or cry with embarrassment at seeing her length of shapely legs. I breathed deeply and remembered that patience is a virtue necessary for dealing with capricious women. A derisive smirk pulled at the corners of my mouth. What would she say if she knew I thought such things?

Soft muffled voices reached my senses, and once again my ear was pressed against the weather-beaten door with piquant interest.

"…to be, Serena, and let's be honest, he is not even available."

"What? Molly, you have it all wrong- What do you mean not available? Such absurd-"

Molly scoffed disbelievingly, ignoring the latter of her acquaintances sputtering. "Do I? Then, what were you doing at the door with him."

"We did not even get the chance for greetings before you so kindly startled me. We did nothing, are you jealous of something so inane?"

I heard the shuffling of clothes and concealed a chortle at their incriminating position.

"Will you please lever your ample thighs off my delicate wrist? You really do like to overindulge on those apple pastries, don't you!"

Molly sputtered incoherently, reeling from the accusation. "I am not jealous of your doubtful charm, Serena. Is that what you are implying? I have little else to do, my life has become uninteresting…is that it? Is that the first impression you got from me?"

Serena sighed. "No, I did not mean that. Your timing just had me make a fool of myself. He must think me a joke… Can you forgive my outburst? I really meant none of it."

Molly hesitated, letting the thick silence stew briefly. "Of course, but I would hurry and open that door if I were you. You may not work for him, but he will tell Lady Mina of you discourtesy. She detests such unmannerly actions."

I averted my attention to a very interesting crack on the wall, hearing a rustle of cloth and shoes intermingled with amicable apologies, as they tried to rectify their positions. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to burst with uninhibited laughter and I would have too, were it not for the fact that decent society would forever shun me.

After a moment more of indiscernible whispers from inside the kitchen, the door reopened tentatively.

It started with just a crack. Profoundly white, slim fingers curled around the side of the aged wood. They grew sure in their grip and pulled firmly on the veiling mass. One fathomless cerulean eye tested the mere opening, discerning whether or not I had left. Upon the realization that I was indeed still there, that eye became forever wide - as did the door when it was flung back to collide with the wall, testing the frugal hinges with sheer force.

"Oh, Sir, please forgive me. I did not know she would-"

I laughed. It was not mocking or derogatory laughter, but mild, amused chortling.

She flushed indignantly with mortification, realizing the huge rip that ran the length of her dress and exposed a tantalizing amount of peaches-and-cream thigh. I could see the tears waver the sure color in her eyes, morphing the calm blue oceans into turbulent crystalline rivers.

"Oh, no, Serena, please do not cry." I took her hand earnestly, offering her my most tender smile. "I was not laughing at that, I assure you. I was just amused at hearing you call me sir."

She looked perplexedly at me, her free hand fruitlessly attempting to salvage the gash at her hip. "What else am I to call you?"

"Call me Darien. You were not so hesitant about it before."

She averted her gaze to a blossoming juniper bush beside the kitchen entrance. "That was before I knew the magnitude of your position, Sir."

Despite the softness in her tone, the words were cold and distant, completely unlike the Serena I had come to know.

"Alright," I said, a sudden idea lightening my plummeting mood. "If you insist on calling me Sir, I will call you Miss."

Her head snapped up. "You cannot! I will be out of favor with Lady Mina. It is inappropriate-"

I put two fingers to her lips to silence her refusal. Shock was my first sensation, as tingles spread through those fingers like thousands of scampering spiders. It was like touching silk - warm, slightly moist, electrified silk. I licked my lips absently as her eyes took on a slightly languid appearance.

"Now," I made an attempt to clear my throat, but no sound escaped other than a strangled groan. "I will hear no protests on the matter." I pulled my fingers away slowly, relishing in the feel of her full lips grazing against my skin.

"Alright, Darien, I will try."

My heart soared at her use of my name with that musical tone. It had never sounded so wonderful. I felt content, and insanely wished that no one else but her would ever say my name again.

But like most things in my mundane life, society held the leash of my behavior and I was forced to mask those joyous feelings with toneless acceptance and cordial hedonism, if such a thing is even possible. "Good." I made a feeble attempt to change the subject of conversation. "Are the kitchens busy?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, very busy. Molly is panicking to the point of an episode. I would help more, but it seems I am only getting in the way."

"How is that?"

"I have never had to do kitchen work, you see. It is all so foreign to me. All the other girls seem to do is clean up after me." She avoided my eyes, a distinguishable look of shame flickered across her interminably indigo depths. "I'm terribly clumsy."

"Don't worry about that. Everyone is best suited to different things. I'm sure you have talents that far outdo baking and food preparation." I gently tapped her chin, winking charmingly.

An alluring blush stained her cheeks accompanied by an airy giggle - music to my ears.

"Since you are of no use here, would you care to walk with me in the gardens?"

"I would love to, but I don not think I am allowed."

"Fear not, you are with me. I can have you as my guest." I extended my arm politely and was delighted to no end when she curtseyed and took it playfully.

"Well, then I shan't worry," She said giggling at the feigned formality.

This young woman was such a refreshing change to the stuffed porcelain dolls I was forced to exhibit interest in. Her attitude was childish yet endearing, but most of all it was intoxicating and utterly contagious. I yearned to follow her mirth, I itched to mirror her joviality - but most of all I wished to heighten these characteristics, to give her endless joy.

She deserved nothing less than eternal happiness, most of which I longed to give her. But…could not.

We walked in silence for a long time. Our path was lit by small lanterns - pinpricks in the subterranean darkness. Brooding flowerbeds changed color under the pallid moonlight as the surrounding earth took on an otherworldly glow. Blackened trees loomed protectively in the distance, sheltering us from the imposing threat of the outside world. And yet with all these ominous entities, the atmosphere was light and undaunted, airy and enchanted.

It was an incredibly serene feeling. Her little hand enveloped in mine was the only source of definable heat. I reveled in hr presence. Amazingly, I could feel every movement, sense every stolen glance. But my thoughts, and the fact that I had spent almost a month thinking of her, chided me to break the contented silence. So, I gathered my wandering contemplations in an attempt to find something to say, anything to say.

She got there before me.

"Have you heard news of your sister?"

I looked deeply into her oblivious eyes - no doubt Mina did not think it suitable topic for conversations. "She passed away," I said simply, not wanting to further torture such a fresh wound.

"That's terrible." Her response was neither pitying nor empathetic, it was merely sad.

Her admirable reaction did not register then, sadly, and looking back I wish I had noticed such a wonderful quality. At the time I simply brushed off her statement, casting around for a change of subject.

"Did you know that Mina would be your new mistress?"

Her face constricted into a distained pout. "Oh, no, if I had known I would have declined the job. The woman is abashedly scandalous. She really holds no claim to any decency where men are concerned." A devilish grin crossed her pretty features. "She has confided in me such nasty things about you, though."

My face bled of all color. "Re...Really?"

She nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. The plethora of naïve young girls spread out at your feet, your midnight meetings with said girls - she has told it all to me."

A wry smile twitched my features. "And does it bother you to be associated with someone as disreputable as I?"

"No! I mean, it is none of my business what you do to those girls…" She blushed fervently, stuttering incessantly, to my copious amusement.

"What I do to them? What exactly is there to 'do'?" I cajoled teasingly.

If at all possible, her chagrin deepened to the point where I believed her face to be a permanent effervescent red. "I didn't mean… It wouldn't be appropriate to discuss… You are mocking me, aren't you?"

I laughed deeply, gently swatting the moisture at the corners of my eyes. The pure innocence n her stare was enough to evoke eternal laughter from me. "No…but you are adorable when you are flustered."

We both blushed profusely.

I looked at our path, and noticing we were approaching the stables, a sardonic thought entered my mind. With all my courage, I dared to grab her hand and lead her off the trail into a thicket of bushes, heading toward the obscured shelter. Brief protests hit my ears as she fumbled and floundered to keep up my pace. We waded through the patch of shrubbery with alacrity and my heart ached with guilt as I heard her gasp from whipping branches and stinging nettles. But it would be worth it, I reasoned. The look on her face would be more than worth it.

The rough foliage cleared almost instantly to be replaced by a brief sloping lawn. I met her gaze and was amused to see indignant fury, evidently being held in check. I could fathom why.

"Look there!" I pointed to the low building to our right. It was overgrown with Ivy and clematis, completely engulfed in a swirling blend of pastel pink and menacing green. At the back, there was a gazebo. It was where we usually congregated for tea after a day of fox hunting. Fragrant pink roses and forget-me-nots were littered at the base, their smell invading the heavy musk of the incessant night air. The sparsely placed lanterns cast a philanthropic orange tinge to the peaceful crevice, bathing it in a gentle radiance.

"Oh, my…" She ventured forth, occasionally looking back at me with dubious eyes. "Is it always so beautiful here?"

"No. I find that this placed only reveals its magic under the glow of the moon."

"Do you come here often under the moon?"

"When I can, it is hard to find time to myself." I sat leisurely on one of the patio chairs at the gazebo, inhaling the heavily scented air. It always managed to soothe my ragged nerves.

"Um… It was very lovely of you to show me this place…but was there another reason why you brought me here?" She neared my chair and dropped gently to sit on the step of the gazebo.

Why she did not sit beside me I will never know.

I gestured flippantly. "Would I need a reason?"

She blanched. "I will be chastised for abandoning my work, 'Sir.' Do you realize?"

"You will not. Lady Mina and Raye will be engrossed in their superficial chatter for veritable hours." I sank to the step to sit beside her, amused to see her eyes widen. "I did want to speak with you for a reason… What? Have you never seen a dignified man sit on the ground before?"

She smiled weakly. "You are not as you seem to be, are you?"

"Well," I gesticulated in the general direction of the house. "When you are surrounded by all of this, you tend to harbor some facades. But the same could be said for you, too."

She smiled coyly. "Oh? How so?"

I pursed my lips in thought. "Well, you try to act cold and unyielding. But your attempts are futile - your eyes tell all. You care so much, yet you have so much sadness in you…why?"

She laughed ironically. "Do you pay me so much attention?"

It was my turn to blush and stammer.

Her giggle was music, utter sunshine for the ears. "You know you are adorable when you are flustered."

For several minutes, uninhibited laughter reigned. Whatever estrangements we thought existed between us melted away like whipped cream on warm apple crumble. Again I was amazed by her ability to lighten the conversation. It was something novel and naive that seemed to only exemplify her.

"Do you always charm complete strangers?" I asked laughingly, unconsciously pushing a stray, distinctly curled tendril behind her chilled ear.

"Only rich boys," she said meeting my gaze.

My eyes flittered to her lips - my nerves suddenly became sensitive and overexerted. I gently laced an arm around her slight waist, relishing in the curve of her back and the slant of her hips. My senses soared as I felt her tapering fingers rest on my chest and toy with the silky material of my waistcoat. I took the action as an encouragement to pull her ever closer.

Yet just as my mouth was inches from hers, and my body protested at that scant distance, she boldly raised her head and sealed my lips with an utterly lascivious kiss. I gasped as her little tongue sought mine in an unexpected gesture of unmistakable hunger.

That feat took me completely by surprise.

But as I hesitated, so did she. Her movements stopped, one eye slit open circumspectly, and ever so slowly, her warmth ebbed away as insecure doubt settled between us.

With haste born purely of need, I roughly pulled her back and stared heatedly into her eyes. I saw it. The flickering regrets, the fear of rejection, I saw it all and hated myself for evoking such apprehensive feelings.

"You really are a mystery," I whispered before claiming her lips with fervent passion. It was dizzying, erotic, everything a chaste kiss should not be. But this was no innocent kiss, I argued, as her teasing tongue slid against my own. Her arms slithered to my neck, gripping me tightly as I shifted her for greater access to those tempting lips. My senses were on fire - her taste was sweet and invigorating. Her kiss was absolutely addictive.

And as we sat there in that intimate embrace, all problems, fears and circumstances faded away, leaving only a warm fuzzy unintelligible happiness.

If only it had lasted.

>,

For two days, I ambled round the Manner in a trance, completely caught up in my reminiscence. It was all I could do not to think of her, and what was worse, I was focused on not thinking of her.

By this time all the preparations had been made, and the ballroom was spectacular in its splendor. Raye looked weary and despondent, but masked it well behind inimitable irascibility. I felt wretched for not being there for her. It was a difficult and troubling time for us all. But since there was nothing else that needed tending to, she became acutely fussy and vaguely eccentric. It was not, by now, uncommon for her to be found wandering aimlessly around the hallways, muttering about holes and trenches.

Sometimes people grieve in their own unique ways, and this, sadly, was hers.

Around midday on the third day ahead of the Stately Ball, a curious carriage pulled up at the main entrance. A visitor was unexpected, so naturally half the guests assembled to greet this mystery caller.

Serena shuffled up behind me through the vast gathering, placing a docile hand in mine. Inwardly, I squirmed with delight at such an affectionate motion, but outwardly, I held my usual venerable composure.

I had to, for my reputations sake.

A short, squat lady-in-waiting hopped from the august carriage and cast a supercilious pout at the assembled company. She lowered the side step with unparalleled skill and held out a cordial hand for her mistress.

And as Anne alit from the compartment, my heart tore in my chest, protesting the hurt to come.

She sauntered closer to me, a look of vicious pleasure wrinkling her petite face. "Darien, do you not greet your fiancé? Have you missed me so little?"

Serena's hand receded completely, leaving me a forlorn wreck in the eye of the storm. I wanted to cry out, kick and remonstrate. I wanted to prostrate myself at Serena's feet, beg her to discredit this foul woman's accusations and be with me forever. But I didn't, I couldn't. I relied too much on the opinion of others.

Instead of doing what was right, I took the path that would forever relinquish my soul. I knew what had to be done, and wished fervently to be struck by lightening when the deed was done.

But then I heard it. A clear note rang through the inexorable silence. "Fiancé?" All eyes were fixed on Serena, her curious canon regarded with trepidation and uncertainty.

She was but a maid, after all.

"Yes," Anne said, slithering into view of Serena. "Does that surprise you? He is a handsome man. Did you really think he would be unattached?"

I pulled on my deprecating façade and steeled myself to her amorous presence. "Come now, Anne, let the girl be. It is probably just a silly fancy. It is nothing to be worried of."

Serena's eyes shone with inexplicable fury. "A silly fancy? You think I have taken a fancy to you?"

Even as the words were said, I loathed myself for every last one. "Oh please, it is obvious. You are obsessed with me. Everywhere I turn you are there. That kiss in the gardens was implemented by you, and even though I hesitated, you persisted nonetheless. But do not worry, Serena. It is only natural for you to take a fancy to me. I am a dignified man far out of your reach. Such childish fantasies are common for a girl of your stature."

I could see her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. "My…stature?"

"Oh, my," Anne sad frivolously, primping slightly in the presence of the plain girl. "You poor dear, Delusions of grandeur can be hard to overcome. Don't you see? You are beneath him. He could never have such filth as you. You would taint his family's bloodline with your plebeian, disease ridden-"

I put a halt to her recriminations, unable to bear it any longer. "Anne, you needn't be so harsh. What good would it do to further humiliate her? It only serves the purpose of displaying your jealousy, which appears quite adamant, considering you see her as something so low." I ran a teasing finger over her jawbone, inwardly wincing at the loathsome touch. "Come now, Love, let us get reacquainted."

"Yes, that sounds more pleasurable. She has no business questioning me, the runt that she is."

As the party dispersed, I paused momentarily to look at Serena. I was careful to keep my gaze nonchalant, unwillingly trapping my feelings in that familiar box I had momentarily forsaken. Her eyes were torn, completely and utterly devastated. I could see her disbelief, her compunction, and most of all her sadness, and I never doubted for a second that I had broken her heart.

Anne slinked along next to me, her arm circling mine, as we ventured towards the dark hallways to my bed chamber.

"Well, Darling, I see you have been busy while I was gone. Was that another of your vigorous, ambitious little playthings?"

I shrieked a thousand insults at my absolute stupidity and stated simply, "Yes."

Anne laughed bitterly. "I devised as much. But worry not my love - you have me to play with now."

-

Chapter four, coming soon…

Please criticize constructively.

: ) Aísling a.k.a. Lingy ( :


	4. Chapter Four

Love Blossoms - Chapter Four

I got a little carried away with thoughts in this chapter. But hopefully you will enjoy it nonetheless.

-

Aswe progress through inconsequential lives, we encounter hurdles and obstacles. Some of these are construed as 'necessary evils', and are only questioned by the cynical and depressive. As such, when we encounter these things, we brush them aside, not realizing how truly obstructive they are, and how much they can influentially meander our path. And when it is too late, when facile minds triumph and subterfuge prevails, then we see the world in its true colors, and forever lose the naivety and ignorance we clung to so fervently.

The same can be said for our perception of people. We only see what they wish us to, only brush upon the surface of inestimable waters. We test the water, dipping a tentative toe through the clear surface. If it is too cold we recede, and go no further for fear of frostbite - if it is warm, we wade in the shallow end, afraid to venture further for fear of drowning. The few who are courageous enough to brave the turbulent seas reach heights of unimaginable bliss, and subsequently live lives of endless discovery. And as for the timid majority, we cling to logic and reason, and openly ridicule the adventurous whilst inwardly chastising our own cowardice.

-;-'-

I lay silently between the soft mauve, velour sheets, absently scrutinizing the voluptuous woman who lay sleeping beside me. She lacked the innocence gained in sleep, her features just as chiseled and mocking as when conscious. Her strawberry hair flowed like a torrent river, knotted and desiccated, and in no way inviting to the touch or alluring to the senses. Her sickly sallow skin held no beauty. It was yellow and rough, coarse to touch and lacked any discernable smoothness. Her stocky curves seemed unnatural, despite her petite appearance, and her hands remained leathery and inexplicably cold - forever cold.

She stirred slightly, gently nuzzling my side. I wretched inwardly, and cursed the inauspicious situation. I was expected to love her deeply, to devote myself to her every whim and fancy. That was nonsense, pure mendacity. I despised her derision, and devious inclinations. She appeared to abhor everyone as if they bore the bubonic plague, regardless of breeding or upbringing. Her discrimination was universal and portrayed her lack of faith in humanity.

Despite this, I often wondered if these characteristics were a mask, like the one I rendered publicly. I wondered if behind her malicious exterior lay a tender heart and compassionate soul. But incidents like her arrival proved every one of my conjectures erroneous, and only then did I accept how truly callus she was.

Although I had hoped I was wrong, I generally disliked judging others in such a way.

So why, prey tell, did I suffer her, you ask? Why punish myself unnecessarily? For what could betraying the marriage do to my reputation?

The answer to these questions could be summarized with one word. Pride! I held it like a newborn clings to its mother for survival. Like a dying man conforms to a belated sense of renewed faith, I conformed to society, so utterly that I sacrificed my own happiness to be seen as worthy in irrelevant eyes.

She stirred again, opening one stormy hazel eye disdainfully, as if I were infinitely impure. "Darien…What time would it be?"

"I do not know," I said calmly, readjusting myself under the supple covers. "Still quite early, I believe. The sun has yet to rise fully."

She purred languidly, covetously spreading out over the silky fabrics. I dared to steal a glance, only to catch the lascivious glint in her grimy depths. I winced slightly and reached for my book on the nightstand, trying desperately to avoid her suggestions.

But my aloofness from her was not caused by her lack of beauty - far from it. She was in fact quite a vision of slightly tanned skin and delicate features, and I did admire her good looks. Not long ago I had taken her for her appearance, as something gentle and demure. I judged the book by its cover as I tend to do. I paid the price for it, though, as when our engagement was announced she began to reveal her true colors. Her persona began to unfold like the petals of a dead flower - perfectly formed on the outside, yet decayed and demented on the inside. And slowly, her beatific looks were soiled for me by her atrocious tendencies, and my misconceptions were obliterated along with my fondness for her.

My book was snapped away by impetuous fingers, forcing my eyes to meet those of menacing olive. I raised an eyebrow, masking my fury behind sarcastic amusement. "Yes, Love?"

Her pout was impatient and irascible. "Why do you pay me no attention, Darien? I have been home two days, and all you seem to do is avoid me. Have I displeased you?"

I casually removed my precious book from her taught grip and replaced it on the table. "No, you have done nothing. My sister died, Anne. Do you expect me to act frivolous after such a trauma?"

She laughed mockingly. "But, you are a man! Men do not harbor such feelings. That is for a woman to worry about."

"Is that so?" I looked at her with utter incredulity. Surely she could not be so blind?

"Quite so. Men need to be strong, it is that simple."

"So they cannot feel sadness, or love, or happiness, or anger?"

She smirked sheepishly, tangling her blunt fingers in the nape of my hair. "They can feel all those things, my dear, all except sadness and loss. They shouldn't cry - it is unnatural and unappreciated. To cry is weak and pointless - I never have shed a tear so easily, so no man should. After all, men are supposed to be the stronger gender."

At that moment I felt immense pity for her. She could not cry. Was she so inhumane, so cold? Did she really oppose such viable emotions? "So what, prey tell, am I, if I am not a man?"

She shrieked briefly with laughter, settling herself forcedly into my embrace. "How absurd, you are of course a man. You have never exhibited such folly."

I extracted myself from her grip and rose to dress for another pointless day. "You are wrong - I have done all those things. I cried for Rosa. I wept in the very bed in which you lie. I mourned and wished for death to take me too, so that I would not have to suffer the anguish of her loss. But where were you through all my pain? You claim to love me so, and yet you keep your distance at a time when you would be needed most. No doubt you were pleasuring some naïve young ne'er do well, 'teaching' him the essentials of life."

Anne sat indifferently on the feathery surface as my voice rang heatedly through the damp morning air. I knew I meant none of those things, and my confessions would fall on deaf ears. And even deeper down I knew I was only angry at myself. Serena now loathed me. She thought me deceitful and unfeeling. As far as she knew I had used her for her looks, and was interested in nothing more.

That was untrue and unfathomable.

"Have you quite finished?" Anne said lazily, brushing back the plush blankets with practiced nonchalance.

I breathed a deep sigh and sank dejected to the bed. What was the point? Anne was far too self-involved to care how I felt. She considered me her claim to wealth and admiration, far beyond what she had presently. I knew this and still tolerated her. But for my own reasons, the same ones that made me keep my distance from a certain angel.

And yet, even though I knew these devices were employed, I felt an insane rage build in the depths of my being. I wanted to hurt her, to cause her pain beyond anything imaginable. I wanted to prove to Serena that I was true, and that I was honestly falling in love with her.

Yes… I was falling in love with her.

The thought of my sudden shift in emotions made my blood run cold. Had it really taken me so long to realize my own feelings? Love was not something that immediately came to mind with thoughts of her. My first thought was usually, 'I wish I could hear her laugh.' But now that I stopped to think, it was blatantly obvious. I was beginning to love her deeply.

"Darien, what is it? You're so pale all the sudden."

Anne's contrived comment redirected my train of thoughts to a rueful place. A place where no decent fantasy would dare lie and where no dream could ever inhabit, for nothing can grow from insipid ground just like nothing can dwell in an insipid mind. She was my fiancé, my betrothed, my noose. She was the reason Serena couldn't bare to look at me, and was avoiding me completely. And with time and our approaching marriage, these problems would only mount and intensify.

But throughout all my regrets and speculations, one thought rang clear above all others…

'Even things that seem impossible can sometimes spawn miracles.'

I calmed with remembrance of that fateful day. It was the turning point of my life.

With swirling conclusions and an aching heart I rose from the sullen four-poster bed and sauntered deftly towards the door.

"Where are you going? Your attire is not decent." Anne fluttered to my side, a stern pout embodying her pursed lips.

I chuckled genuinely at her show of modesty, as she clutched tightly to the sheet held at her breast. Such diffidence was uncharacteristic of her. "And who will see me, exactly? The sun has yet to rise. I shall be back before it does." And with that said, I turned my back and exited the room, barricading the door in my wake.

It was time for me to pursue my true love.

-;-'-

The light wisps of shy rain tickled my cheeks softly as I strode out across the courtyard towards the servants' quarters. The impertinent sky loomed threateningly overhead, flashing with menace, and occasionally shifting its various shades of gray and black. The air was unsettlingly still - not a breath of wind to be felt, and I was absently reminded of the calm before a tumultuous storm.

Intermittent clicks reached my startled ears, just as I was mere feet from my destination. I turned to see a pure white horse galloping along the shapely cobblestone pavement, its rider shrouded in a russet overcoat of coarse gabardine. The hoarse barely drew to a halt before the man alit nimbly, and deftly advanced on my startled form.

It was not until I felt firm knuckles collide with my jaw that my senses returned with acute pain. I reeled, clutching the offended area as a trickle of crimson blood slinked sluggishly to my chin.

"How dare you, cousin," Andrew spat, throwing back the hood that inhibited his movements.

"W-What?" I edged away, unused to seeing him so distraught.

"I received a message from Mina yesterday. She told me what you did to her maid."

I merely stood aghast, unable to form a coherent thought.

Andrew sensed my ignorance and continued brashly. "You openly ridiculed her, humiliated her to suit your own fascist ego. It matters little that she is of a lower class. You had no right to treat her so." He towered over me, infuriated. "I should beat you senseless."

I lowered my head shamefully. "Go ahead."

"Excuse me?"

"I deserve to be beaten. I deserve nothing less than you can inflict. Go ahead."

Andrew seemed to lose some of his pent up rage as he considered my curious offer. "You are not serious!"

I felt bitter regret well up inside my constricted chest. I needed to be punished, I needed to feel something. Anything to take away the guilt and forlorn, for no pain could ever equal those emotions!

So, my dastardly mind formed memories long forgotten and I struck as low as I could. "Oh, are you not brave enough to lash out at me? Are you really such a coward? I am amazed that Mina would have you so. She likes to have a man in control. I should know, shouldn't I? She has been 'very' dominant of me. And such dirty, nasty things, she has done, touched, tasted. Having her as my mistress was, indeed, a pleasure!"

My recounting of past events was rewarded with a firm blow to the stomach. A harsh breath escaped my lips, my lungs refusing to let another enter. But I had evoked a chain of obscenities that refused to let me stop there. I needed this. Only then would my remorse subside.

"Does the truth hurt, Andrew? Does it bother you to know that I was the first to conquer her peaks and valleys?"

His fists clenched, a vein throbbing at his temple. I was hitting all his hidden insecurities, unearthing suppressed envy.

"Hold your tongue," he hissed threateningly, "Else I will rip it from your head."

"You won't," I smirked superiorly. "For what would Mina say? She cared so much for me, and still does, quite avidly too. Why just the other night, she-"

I never got the change to finish that fabrication. In a fit of unrivaled anger, Andrew swept towards me and struck me down repeatedly. I felt his hands grip me like vengeful claws, tearing at the tender pink flesh of my skin. His clenched fists bore into me with unrestrained force, conjuring the discharge of blood from my throat and causing all my appendages to cry with searing pain. I felt numerous splitting collisions with my delicate face and cringed with the thought of an unsightly scar, which would follow painful stitching.

But throughout this self-inflicted torture, I felt no redemption for my guilt.

Andrew's chestnut eyes softened slightly as I coughed up another wave of blood. "There! Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted, Darien? Did you think you would feel better for the pain?"

I remained silent, reveling in self-pity.

He scoffed acerbically. "I didn't think so. But why - that is what I would like to know? Why act so fictitious for a woman you hate?" He sat placidly beside me on the wet cobblestone, patiently waiting for a reply.

I propped myself painfully on one elbow, and regarded him with skepticism. "Andrew, I do not hate Serena."

He chuckled quietly. "I gathered… But I meant Anne."

My eyes flittered to his, wary enveloping my thoughts. "I-I do not hate my own fiancé."

"really? Well you do not like her much then." He reached into one heavily stuffed pocket and produced a large silk handkerchief. He offered it to me, and as I took it said, "You don't put up much of a fight, do you?"

I grinned, but grimaced as I felt the twinge at my jaw. "Yes, well… I deserved a good beating, did I not!" I dabbed the pooling blood gently before addressing him once more. "Raye told me you would be arriving today. I was…hoping I could speak with you."

He rose to his feet, a mischievous grin forming on his pallid lips. "Of course, but maybe we should head inside. The rain is worsening."

He extended a hand to help me up, which I grasped gratefully, and slowly I limped toward the manner, and distanced myself from her.

But the weather was relentless, and within an hour the blackened sky rumbled forebodingly, and flared with tremendous displays of white wrath. And through it all, unknown to me, a little curly haired angel lay terrified in her bed, deathly fearful of rising to work.

But more so, afraid to let anyone know.

-

Um, sorry. That was a little overly dramatic. But I am still learning how to write so bear with me. Tell me what you think, CRITICISM is encouraged.

: ) Aísling a.k.a. Lingy ( :


	5. Chapter Five

Love Blossoms - Chapter Five

First off, I want to apologize for raising the rating. It was necessary, and really couldn't be helped. I couldn't give a warning, because when it comes to ratings I am pretty clueless. But I did add in my summary a while back that this story might be rated R. I hope that covers it, if only a little.

Also, I have eased up on the use of language, purely because this story is moving far too slow for my liking, and there was a lot I needed to put in this chapter.

Anyway, read this and tell me what you think. I don't own the characters in this story - Takeuchi Naoko does.

-

The gently steaming cup of tea sat lazily between my hands, as I sat in front of the hearth with my only cousin. Throughout my childhood, growing up with two sisters in the midst of a vast forest, Andrew was the only contact I had had with other children of my gender. He was always one to cling to the lighthearted and make me feel I was missing out on life outside the manner. Where I was aloof to others and tended to shy from them, he was at the center of attention, basking in the rays of human kindness I swatted away. And even though I knew this, even though he was naturally more charismatic than I, there was never any contempt there, only brotherly admiration.

He unfurled his crossed legs slightly, raising his eyes to meet mine. "Where were you going just now, so early in the day?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, though my heart thundered in my ears. "I needed a breath of air…"

"I see," he said, tapping his spoon to his cup with a gentle melodic hum. "So you were not going to apologize to Serena."

I was taken aback by the bluntness of his statement. I never expected such an adroit accusation. He was usually one to employ tact and careful questioning. "Would you expect me to?" I said casually, observing the joyous flames dance and sway under the watchful eye of the mantel.

"Do you really want to know what I think, cousin?"

I searched his murky eyes, trying to discern the mockery and underlying disappointment. Yet sadly, all I found was sincerity. "Yes, I would."

He sat his cup and saucer to one side on an accommodating end table and clasped his hands together with astute correctness. "I believe that you were trying to sway her into a physical, lustful relationship. But, unfortunately for you, Anne returned from her sister's home, interrupting your plans. So, you tried to brush her off, not realizing that the naïve young girl had grown quite so fond of you." He nodded, as if affirming his own suspicions. "But, now I think that, maybe, you are a little fond of her, and you are growing tired of Anne."

My grip grew taught on the arm of my chair, my knuckles paling to an airy white. "Is that so," I said absently, conjuring a lie to feed this hungry busy-body.

"I know you are just going to deny it," he rushed on, ruining my practiced defense tactics. "You will prattle on about your love and devotion to Anne, and then you will say Serena is an imaginative girl who never laid claim to your advances."

This man knew me better than I thought. The placid surface of my tanned tea wavered slightly as my fingers trembled. "I hold no interest in that girl."

"Liar," he said simply, sipping delicately from his replaced cup. "I don't know if it is love or merely lust, but either way, you are ruining both your lives. Your reputation and her employment record will be forever tarnished."

"Be quiet," I commanded brashly. "You are unbelievably ignorant. You know nothing of it!" A rolling blast of untimely thunder reverberated around the cavernous parlor, affirming my bold statement. The rain splattered heavily against the window pane, imploring me to take back my harsh address. I did not.

Andrew clucked his tongue thoughtfully, gently stirring his tea - more from habit than necessity. "You only deny it so strongly because you can not stand hearing the truth. Do you really think me so foolish as to believe you?"

I took a large mouthful of my tea, wincing as the piping liquid ran scornfully down my tender throat. Andrew was wrong, for once. I was not merely attracted to Serena. From the moment we met, during that fateful day in Dublin, I was captivated by her mind. She seemed so caring, so affectionate, so innocent despite hardship. And yet, something made her shy away, something made her beautiful heart recoil from the ugly attentions of mankind. Something I wanted to ask but couldn't, knowing it was too painful for her, knowing she would have told me of her own accord. Sadly, I feared I would never again receive that chance to know.

Andrew waited expectantly, eyeing me with acute irritation. "What's this? No denial? No insulting defensive ploy to safeguard your pathetic ego?"

I chuckled at the irony of it all. Here I was contemplating Serena's past during my stressful interrogation. My feelings toward the working class had changed significantly since my first meeting with her. And though my mind suffered this revolution, no one knew, no one even noticed. Was I that lonely, that withdrawn?

A look through the high parlor window showed the sun rising wearily in the distance, gently shooing away the dark recesses of a foreboding night. The clouds gathered around warningly, pushing away the warm beams of salvation with stoic declination, greedily shadowing the earth from the touch of the beyond.

"So," Andrew goaded impatiently, "Do you have nothing to say for yourself?"

I smiled coyly, fixing him an appreciative stare. "Why do you defend the girl so, Andrew?"

He blanched, obviously not expecting that question. "Mina has taken a liking to the girl. They have become close friends, apparently. And honestly? I really hate to see anyone humiliated."

My chest became constricted with ignominy as I remembered my cruel words. "I was a cad, I know," I relented somberly, lowering my gaze to the crimson shag. "I would understand if she never laid eyes on me again."

"Darien," Andrew sang lightly. "You are wadding waist high in self pity. Serena will forgive you…eventually." He laughed outright at my admonishing look and continued seriously when he gained control of himself. "But really, she will. And as for Anne… she will find another well-to-do man to tolerate her antics."

I smiled gratefully at my dearest friend. "Thank you. I… really want to be on good terms with her."

He nodded, a mischievous smile cracking his understanding acceptance.

"Now then," I said roughly, breaking what was fast becoming a touching moment. "About you and your darling wife…"

He held up his hand purposefully. "Ah, there is no need. Mina and I are… no longer at war."

"Alright, then let us discuss the future of your marriage. Shall there be children, a house in the country? A dog named after your dearest friend and cousin?"

He laughed, blushing madly. "Let us just talk of hunting."

-;-

Meanwhile, unknown to me at the time, there was far more of a struggle taking place on the west wing of the house.

A slender woman stood at her window, dressed in pale burgundy silk that clung desperately to her shapely form. The fading rays of moonlight cast a ghostly glow on her sallow skin, morphing the dark sheets into pale planes of snowy blankets. Her deep violet eyes shone heliotropically in the sullen darkness, as they were directed toward the ground far below. One tapering hand was placed on the sill as a slight, scantly clad leg was swung over the thin frame. She sat there absently, fixated on the ground several stories below, perfectly still in the imposing clutch of the beginning of a frost-bitten dawn.

"I wonder would it hurt?" she said quietly, readjusting the delicate material of her gauzy nightgown. She laid her foot flat against the cool, jagged brickwork under the sill, wincing as the sharp perforated surface skimmed her flimsy skin. "It wouldn't do to ponder, I don't think… Perhaps it would be best to just get it over with."

She closed her eyes and prepared to let go, to fall and assume death, to be reunited with her sister. A blast of thunder sounded noisily, grumbling amidst the tranquil drops of unconcerned rain. Her effervescent eyes opened to behold the majesty of lightening flash decoratively across the sky, illuminating the forest in all its ghostly glory.

And for the first time in veritable weeks, she felt cold. A shiver ran up her arms and legs, effectively bubbling the creaseless skin. The little hairs on her body stood on end, tickling and alerting their mistress to the frost laced air. Her whole body quaked as a sob threatened to escape the fortress of her cracked lips, tightening them painfully.

"Rosa!" Her voice cracked as the harsh word left her tattered throat, tears falling unnoticed to leave red streaks along her untainted skin. "How could you leave…?" She trembled, admonishing such an undignified show of weakness. "I have no one now…"

She closed her eyes and tightened her grip on the frail wooden sill. The stagnant air did nothing to disturb her prolonged show of mourning - it merely enveloped her in a cold blanket of comfort. The antagonized thunder grumbled its condolences, unheard beyond her heartbeat. It felt terrible. Every thought of Rosa, every snippet of conversation, every tinkling ray of laughter, left a crack in her heart. The ice there was thinning, warming, slowly leaving a shattered, torn entity unused to such raw and utter pain. She felt the grief build and protest at its confinement, stabbing at the smallest opportunities to escape. And through it all, though she knew she couldn't disregard it forever, she had to, and that effort was slowly driving her insane.

It was killing her.

She took a ragged breath to regain her composure, futilely letting a small cry escape with her exhalation. One hand relented it's vice grip to cover the offended area with shame and detestation. Again she cast her eyes below, far below to the rose bushes that lay under her window. They were Darien's favorites. Her dear brother loved those bushes. He himself had planted them just three years prior to Rosa's death.

Then there came the struggle. She felt it deep in her broken heart. There was a choice to be made, and she was uncertain she had the courage to withstand it without losing her sanity. On the one hand, she could let go, leave all this torture behind and join her dearly departed sister. But on the other hand, there was her beloved brother, whom she was certain couldn't handle the loss of both his sisters. He loved them too much, she knew.

And if she did go through with it, how would she feel? How would she feel having to gaze at her brother from the afterlife and watch him mourn both their loss.

So, with careful movements and uncertain thoughts, she made her way back through the window, to properly consider the matter. Rashness would be the undoing of the whole woven dilemma, she surmised, and it would do nothing for her own judgment.

But as she made to swing her leg over the sill, her weak limb failed to meet its height, and her balance was thrown to the wind, causing her to fall against the outside wall, hanging by her fingers, clutching for her life. A blood curdling scream escaped her lips as her fatigue-weighted body pulled on her delicate arms, urging them to let go and embrace the rose bushes below. She kicked at the stone futilely trying to haul herself up, wincing as it bashed and bludgeoned her feeble sinewy body, bruising everything it came into contact with.

Past all the pain, one thought acquiesced and voiced the inevitable. "This is the end for me."

But it was not. Strong hands gripped her wrists, severing her clasp on the splintered wood. She felt the uneven brickwork slide painfully away to be replaced by a warm, soft body and tender touch. Deep blue eyes cast deep into hers, worry stricken and terrorized.

"Dear Lord, Raye, are you alright?" He pulled her towards the bed where a tiny woman sat pale and trembling. "Amy, dear, help me get her to bed."

Together, the two worked quickly and managed to wrap her tightly in the soft velvet blankets. Amy stroked her cheek softly with a motherly affection born of having children of her own.

"Oh, Raye," she breathed, tears spilling gently from her concerned eyes. "What happened? I heard you scream, and… What were you thinking?"

Raye said nothing, too caught up in grief and the guilt of causing others to worry so. Amy was too caring. She had a beautiful heart that glowed and enveloped everyone around her. She was the last person she ever wished to taint with her remorseful, pitiful selfishness.

"I…" She cleared her throat as she strained to form coherent words. "I woke up early and wanted to view the sunrise. But I guess I leaned too heavily against the windowsill."

Amy's eyes were clouded with doubt and apprehension, and if possible, pity.

Pity, Raye felt cold from it. Of all the emotions she had ever induced - lust, jealousy, anger, awe - pity was never one she wished for. Only in her darkest nightmares did such weaknesses protrude her steeled shell. She felt dirty, ashamed. She wanted to cry and lash out. She wanted to humiliate her friend, to evoke pity for her so she could gain the upper hand once more.

But she couldn't! Not because she didn't want to, but because she just couldn't gather the energy. After all, what was the point? She could be dead by next sunrise.

So, now, feeling two pairs of judging eyes loom over her, she wanted to be alone. Maybe then she could sob quietly and not alert anyone to her presence. "Amy, Greg, I'm quite tired now. Could you please leave? I promise I will come and see you both later."

They swapped a look of wary, both tense and unsure. Greg nodded slightly to his wife, mouthing words Raye could not distinguish through her hazy vision.

Amy approached her bedside and tenderly kissed her forehead. "Alright, dear, you promised now. I will see you before the ball, yes?"

Raye nodded, but through the corner of her eye she could see Greg bolting the window shut. Apparently, two of her oldest friends no longer trusted her.

Finally, when they were both gone, when unnatural silence pierced her mind and produced memories unwanted, Raye shook with silent tears and mourned the loss of two lives.

-;-

With the approach of midday, the clouds had thickened to a dense tumultuous gray. The sparse groans of thunder became louder and more frequent, shattering the mournful silence into to fearful apprehension. I stood at the window, gazing out across the courtyard to my morning's destination, and ruefully cursed my cousin's arrival. If it weren't for his untimely influx, I may have won Serena over once more.

But as it was, no one had seen her all day. Mina had been frantic when she did not appear to help her dress, and furthermore, when her bed had been found empty and unmade. I glanced sideward at the blonde woman herself, as she read a copy of Sense and Sensibility upside down. Her eyes were still, obviously deep in thought rather than reading, and her fingers gripped the soft pages with forceful rigidity.

"How is that one, Mina?" I said casually, gesturing towards her upheld book.

She started slightly, raising unfocused baby-blue eyes to mine. "What? You mean my book? It's fine…interesting."

I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Oh, is that so? What has happened so far? You appear about halfway through."

She giggled uncomfortably. "Uh, well, you see… I'm not reading it. But, you knew that."

Her soft glare evoked a chuckle from me. "Yes, I did. You are worried about Serena, aren't you?"

She sighed and nodded. "Yes, but I have reason to worry, Darien. There are some things in her past that would make you worry for her if you knew them. People can be so cruel, you know? And…and I just want to be sure she is well. She will not be punished when she returns…if she returns." She closed the book, smiling slightly as she recognized the reason for my inquiries, and set in on the floor by her feet.

"She is here somewhere," I reassured quietly. "After all, our house is quite secluded, how far could she have gotten? There are no horses missing and there have been no visitors since Amy and Greg arrived yesterday. Maybe she went walking in the forest and got lost?"

Mina shook her head solemnly. "No, she would not have. Not in this storm, anyway…"

"I retreated from the clouded window and sat next to Mina on the plush, beige loveseat. "Why is she in so much danger, Mina?" I ask nonchalantly, crossing my legs as if I were inquiring about the weather.

She scoffed lightheartedly. "You are quite mad, you know? I can not tell you that. In time, when you grovel and apologize 'till your head is permanently attached to her foot, maybe then, she will tell you herself."

"Very well," I sighed and picked up the book she dismissed so completely.

I was but four pages into the novel when another woman entered the room. Dressed in her blue, Sunday empire gown, Raye walked to the window and traced a crude bird on the precipitated glass. Her movements were bold and clumsy, her posture, slouched and unkempt. Her hair was greasy and disheveled, and knotted down he exposed back. Her cheeks were pale - her eyes were puffy and dilated. In short, she was utterly out of character.

"Did you know," she said absently, "that there are only three types of wildflower growing around our house?"

Mina and I exchanged chary looks.

"Hmm?" Mina said, trying her utmost to sound indifferent.

"The wildflowers! There are daisies, thistle, dandelions, and poppies. Oh, no, that's four isn't it?" She laughed madly. The sound was frightening in the large hollow room, almost maniacal, tormented and harsh. "Silly me, I should have known that."

"Raye, are you alright?" I looked into her blurred eyes, unnoticing the paling of her taught skin.

"I'm fine, dear brother. Do not worry for me." She walked along the bookshelves, plucking books from their perches at random and dropping them to the floor with muffled thuds. "Does it hurt, do you think?"

"Does what hurt, dear?" Mina asked kindly.

"Being dropped from high off the ground. Would you feel the collision? Would all your bones break simultaneously? Or, would you die before you hit the ground? Maybe your brain would explode from the pressure. I wonder… Maybe there is no painless way to die. Because you feel something, right? With everything you feel something. And what if someone was dying at the same time as you? Would you know of it? I'm confused on the issue. I don't think I would wish for death yet, until I know some of the answers. But, then again, maybe the only way to know is to die…"

I watched her as she made her way around the bookshelves that lined the walls of the room. As she went her words turned to incoherent mumblings, as she systematically pulled books at certain heights and distances.

"Failure…and it wouldn't do…caring, never got into trouble…gone, far away…happy, I hope…I'm not….and death takes me, soon…peaceful, calm…will it hurt…never good enough…sad…alone."

When she reached the door once more, she wished Mina and I a hazy, 'Good night gentlemen,' and closed the door soundlessly in her wake.

"How long has she been so…lost?" Mina said quietly, moving to replace the fallen books.

"Since Rosa's departure, but it has never been this bad. I wish she was her normal self, I can't handle all this change."

Mina smiled empathetically. "Do not worry - everything will be fine soon enough. You just have to let things run their course.

I gave her an appreciative look and immersed myself in my book once more.

-;-

Secrets are terrible things. They fester within us, growing like an unwanted embryo. They become complex as time goes by, and are harder to keep track of. And eventually, these secrets become too hard to hide, too obvious to disguise and ignore.

What then? What happens when those around us learn of such terrible things, such shameful things? They treat us as if we were lepers, untouchable, unlovable. And in turn, they are just encouraging deceit, unconsciously if not deliberately.

So, we run. We hide away from our loved ones. We distance ourselves, hoping, praying that the problem will work itself out. Sometime we are lucky and some divine intervener waves a wand to dispel the problem. But most times, circumstances take place, bringing this problem to light for all to see.

Sometimes there is nothing we can do but sit back and endure the storm.

-;-

After lunch, I decided to look for Serena myself. Although I had tried to act indifferent, inside, I was petrified. She was not the type to up and leave, that I was certain of. So, the only other possibilities, combined with Mina's worries, left a deep sense of unease in the depths of my stomach.

I walked past the blooming daffodils, past budding roses, past yellow and pink and white, and concentrated on the only flower I wished to find. The ominous sky cast a shadow on the purity of a fresh spring, tainting the pastel shades with murky unclean light. At the back of my thoughts I acknowledged the fact that the day of our Ball was ruined by this rough weather, and I hugged my overcoat closer in recognition.

As I neared the icehouse, deep sensual laughter brushed my ears, the cackling of some inhuman temptress. I heard a soft groan follow, and found a devilish longing to know creep into my chaste thoughts. With careful, quiet movements, I waded through the thick foliage to the rear of the small hut, wondering who was playing such a filthy game in such traitorous weather.

And as I neared a particularly obscured section of forestry, something caught my eye. A shred of white linen snagged on a low shrub, torn from a bed sheet, or maybe a dress? It was hard to tell. With tentative fingers, I reached forward and shifted a few small branches to allow a small window to penetrate this forbidden activity.

Nausea overwhelmed me at the sight. There, laid on top of a tattered bed sheet, Anne, my supposed fiancée, was spread unceremoniously. She writhed and wriggled under the touch of her gig driver, Alan, who had long discarded both their clothing and anything else he deemed unnecessary. As she wrapped her legs around his hardened thighs, he groaned lasciviously stroking up her taught waist to her swollen breasts and lingering there to tease the aching hills.

"Where is your husband-to-be?" He growled into her ear, sending a twitch down her side.

"Away," she replied breathlessly, tracing her tapering fingers down his muscular chest, towards his heated desire. "Now, be good and stay quiet, or we will not meet like this again."

He sought her lips hungrily, delving into her mouth with unparalleled fervor.

I recoiled as they continued to grope and twist before me. I couldn't bear to watch, yet I couldn't turn away. I had always known her to be unfaithful. I too had been at one stage or another. But never, not in my wildest dreams, had I expected her to sink as low as a carriage boy.

But through that incredulity, I felt anger boil through. How dare she? How dare she mock me so with her secret lover? How dare she make a fool of me, using me openly for all to see? In a fit of unbridled fury, I cast around for something, anything to give excuse to a sudden interruption.

I found it - her slip.

I snatched the torn chiffon from a nearby patch of nettles and thrashed through the wall of secluding branches. At the sight of my vehement rage, Anne paled considerably, limply falling from the grasp of the younger man.

I glared at her, a filthy, disgusted look that provoked shame in her eyes. Anne was never one to feel ashamed.

"Darien," she whispered. "It is not what you think!"

I scoffed harshly, throwing her the insubstantial cloth. "You whore! Put some clothes on before you catch cold." I turned, with that, and strode away, far away. I could hear Anne's pathetic pleas behind me, drowned by rolling blasts of thunder. I did not heed her, I detested her. The mere thought of her, the visions of her with that lowlife, will haunt me 'till the end of my days.

I stopped dead in my tracks as a chilling sense of realization besieged my train of thought. This was what I deserved. This was what I had done to Serena. Did she feel so used, so dirty, like she wasn't good enough? The thought of making her feel such self doubt made my insides lurch. She was good enough, and always would be in my eyes.

I continued walking, pondering the situation further. Now I would have no choice but to call off the wedding, and throw myself to the mercy of the conniving female masses once more. I raised my eyes to the building that I had inadvertently approached. The drenched walls of pink flowers glistened under the disturbing sky, almost magical among the drops of demure rain. The stables were beautiful in any weather, and did nothing for my thoughts of that beloved little angel.

But the peace was shattered by a strangled cry. It was mournful, painful, full of anguish and suffering. It was everything a soft voice should never have to emit and it sent shivers down my spine.

I burst through the stable doors, startling a few horses as I clattered towards the center of the low building. There nestled on a pile of hay, blood pooling at her waist, lay Serena. Her face was contorted in agony, her eyes shone with torrential tears. Her dress was ripped and torn, the pale green morphed to a flaky brown.

"Don't leave," she gasped, gripping the hay with white hands. "It hurts so much."

My mind reeled, my thoughts dissipated. I felt numb and couldn't move to save my very soul. Of all the things I expected to see, all the sights that ran systematically through my distraught mind, this was never one of them. The only words my flustered brain could manage to conjure were, "What on earth is going on?"

-

Cliffhanger… don, don, don…

I'll be continuing from here. Please let me know what you think.

: ) Aisling a.k.a. Lingy ( :


	6. Chapter Six

Love Blossoms - Chapter Six

All comments are welcome.

……

I stood at the full length mirror, carefully threading my tie with trembling fingers. The stubborn velvet eluded the loop, slipping and crumpling under my fretting touch. I felt a little irked at having dismissed the boy who had come to help me dress, but I couldn't bear to see him, or anyone else, for that matter.

It had all been a lie: her innocence, her carefree earnestness. She deceived me far beyond I could ever have imagined. I felt soiled as if encased with dirt, yet felt that bathing would not wash away my repulsion for her, let alone the mark it would forever leave.

After much gathering annoyance the stitch of cloth relented and allowed me to pull together a somewhat dishevelled bow. My whole appearance was lacking but to set it right seemed like a waste of effort. More of those were not needed.

'You naïve fool,' my thoughts chastised my previous conclusions with vehement scorn. 'Did you really think i she /i would be so different? Have you learned nothing about women?'

I shook my head, reasoning that this train of thought would detract from the serene composure I required to fulfil the night's duties. As the host, considering Raye's condition, it only seems fitting that I appear relaxed and in control. What good would it do to demand an explanation from i her /i now? What good would it do to disturb her from rest she so obviously needed?

But no, I didn't want one. I didn't need to know how Serena had come to be…there.

A timid knock on my door brought me out of my pensive musings. I tried futilely to straighten my appearance before allowing them entry.

Amy opened the door quietly, raising anxious eyes to mine. "Darien, there is a bit of a problem." She entered, closing the door softly in her wake. "Your sister refuses to wear her gown."

"Why's that?" I mumbled, unconcerned with such trivial nonsense. Didn't they realize what had happened? Didn't they know the turmoil my thoughts were in?

Amy fidgeted with the lace of her dress and bit her lip, essentially ruining her mannerly appearance. "She wants to wear…something else…"

I raised a sceptical eyebrow, a small curious part of my mind goading me to inquire, but I shoved at that impulse, bringing former thoughts back into focus. "Why is that a problem - let her wear what she likes, as long as it is fitting."

Amy sputtered incoherently as I ushered her towards the door. "But, Darien, you don't understand-"

"And I shan't ever. Now, Amy dear, if you'll excuse me I must finish preparing." I closed the door on her at that and leaned heavily against it.

I closed my eyes, finding comfort in the cool hard surface of the wood. It felt strangely soothing, soft and sedate. Its dark orange hue was almost therapeutic to gaze upon, and its many finite lines and engrained swirls were hypnotic and infinite. My mind scoffed lightly as I realized I was almost in love with my bedroom door. It was utterly mad to think so much for an inanimate piece of wood. But then again, maybe there were a lot of things I was reading too much into.

Almost reluctantly, I pulled away, and sought my cufflinks to continue reading myself.

;--,

Below my room on the second floor, a faithful wife was helping her husband dress. Since their reunion, Andrew and Mina had become quite inseparable, and even insisted that they dress together. At first, it had been looked upon with the utmost wary and was considered almost scandalous, but after a day or two the uproar died down to a hushed murmur, allowing the couple to do as they pleased.

It served everyone well though. With the substantial number of guests and the limited number of rooms, it was not common to find three or four ladies sharing a room. So, when news came that Mina was vacating her room to reside with her husband, guests flocked from all corners of the house to lay their claim.

"Andrew, please, if you insist on moving at least wait until I finish." Mina perfected his cravat with an air of expertise and adjusted his cuffs habitually. "Honestly, I don't know what you would do without me…"

Andrew smiled sweetly and wrapped his arms around his wife's waist. "Yes, yes, mock as you like. I suppose I would be worse for ware without your meticulous organisational skills."

Mina pulled away gently and began striking pins through her long golden hued hair randomly. "If only Darien had someone to dress him for such occasions…"

Andrew raised his eyes from polishing his scoffed shoes to regard his beloved. "He has Anne, is one woman not enough?"

Mina chortled richly, saturating the air in thick hazy notes. "Oh, Andrew, I meant nothing like that. Don't you get the feeling that…he may not love her? Anne can be so frayed at the edges. I've seen her flirt with young men, both of stature and not. And she really doesn't strike me as reserved in terms of temper. I…fear she may not be the faithful kind…"

"Hush, Mina, those kinds of rumours are death to circulate." His response was laced with venom, sharp and warning. He regretted using that tone with his love, but refused to have Anne spoken ill of. "I just mean," he continued with measured tenderness, "that that may not be true. Rumours are vicious things. They are also, for the most part, untrue."

Mina set her hairbrush aside carefully. "I suppose you're right. But still, I can't help but feel ill at ease."

He chuckled softly. "I'm sure Darien would be touched by your concern for him. But, Mina, don't worry. He is a grown man, well capable of caring for himself. Now come, hurry, we need to get downstairs soon." Andrew turned his attention back to the cleaning of his dancing shoes, not noticing the smile falter on his beloved's face.

"Very well…"

;--,

When the grandfather clock struck at eight I decided it was time to escort my sister to the awaiting party. I knocked on her door clearly, shivering involuntarily as the echoes blended eerily with the chimes.

A disgruntled maid opened the door and curtseyed arbitrarily before returning to her mistress. I stood at the open door, utterly confused. With an anxious glance, I ventured forward and closed the door soundlessly behind me. It was then I found the cause of her unusual behaviour.

Raye stood at her vanity, draped in a floral patterned sheet. Her hair hung loosely, unkempt and dressed with various wildflowers. Her slim fingers trailed the hem of the sheer material as she danced and swayed to an unseen tune. If it weren't for her current condition I would have marvelled at her innocent façade.

"Forgive me, milord, but she just refuses to dress. I've tried everything but she just insists that she is ready" The fretting chamber maid lowered her gaze and dismissed herself, leaving me alone with my sister.

I cleared my throat, glancing to the clock at her dresser. "Raye, the party begins at half eight. Can you be ready by then?"

She looked at me ingenuously, and stilled her cavorting movements. "I'm sorry dear brother, but I shan't change. I will wear no other garment. Would you ask the grass to change its shade, or the sun not to shine?"

My temper began to bubble and I jaunted swiftly to her wardrobe. "That is rubbish!" I spat browsing through the shelves of clothing. "Surely you have something more suitable…" I pulled at various boxes, finding nothing that was worth the occasion. "Did you not order a dress for yourself?"

Raye stood indifferent to my outburst, holding my piercing gaze with one of naiveté. "Yes," she said, surprised that she'd forgotten. "Oh, but I forgot to have it collected. How silly of me…" She smoothed the invisible creases in her sheet, seemingly forgetting my presence. "Such cracks and lines," she mumbled absently. "They never go away…. Little problems, breeding disease and war… It happens at night, when my eyes are closed… And then, all the flowers die…all the pretty flowers…"

I sighed as all the frustration melted away. How had she become like this? Where did we lose her? I honestly couldn't recall when she made the transition. And yet it had happened in such a short space of time, as if in the blink of an eye. "Raye, come now, don't you want to look dignified for all the influential people? Several Lords and Ladies from across the sea have come to join us, not to mention the Lord Mayors of several cities."

She glanced ingenuously at me, "They lie and cheat, and lie, and lie! I'll wear nothing else." She swayed towards me and grasped my hand gently. "Dear Rosa misses this ball, dear brother - do not have me miss it too over something as arbitrary as attire." She nodded serenely as if affirming her statement.

An enormous sense of guilt welled in my stomach as I beheld her unbecoming garments. It pained me to admit that she was correct, but even more so to disregard her. "No, I'm sorry, but I will not have our parents made a mockery of." I rose at that, not daring to glance at my sister once. I knew she wouldn't relent, nor would she understand as she once may have. But I certainly knew that it would be catastrophic to have her appear wearing bed linen. It would be the end of our good name.

I strode to the door and halted the girl who was about to re-enter. "There is no need - Lady Raye will not be attending tonight's celebrations."

"Very well, sir." She turned at that and headed swiftly for the servants stairs, leaving me alone with Raye once more.

With a heartfelt sigh, I removed the key from the inside of the door, bade her goodnight and exited, locking her door in my wake. I leaned against it, feeling the shudders as she pounded and thumped against the other side. Why was it that circumstances had forced me to become such a wretch? Was I not worthy of some good fortune? Was I so undeserving?

I moved away from her room, away from her pleas and incoherent statements, towards the shallow murmurs and pithy conversations of my equals.

I entered the crowded ballroom discreetly, abhorring the scene my parents usually made of their entrance. Every year was the same. They would have the orchestra play a short melodic interlude at which point they would part the hoard of awaiting guests, toasting to good health and happiness. It was a gaudy gesture, conceited and facile, and my parents' absence seemed more bearable without that little scene.

As I weaved my way towards my table, a stout man of about forty grasped my arm. "Ah, Darien, I've been looking everywhere for you. Where are James and Caoimhe? Did they enter when I'd left for a cigar?" He chuckled heartily, slapping me on the back.

I winced, but smiled nonetheless kindly. "No, Arthur, there has been a death in the family. My parents are up in Dublin…"

"Ah, yes, I heard. Terribly sorry! It's a shame about dear Rosa…"

I nodded, averting my gaze awkwardly. Spotting Mina across the room, I excused myself and made my way to her. As I left him, I heard Arthur mumbling something laced with pity to his female companion. His hypocritical nature deterred me, and again I felt the familiar nausea associated with it. I shouldn't have mattered what he thought. I shouldn't have cared how he perceived the situation. But I did, and couldn't help but wince at the thought of the surreptitious talk that was no doubt beginning to circulate.

"Darien, where have you been? Where's Raye?" Mina's smile was radiant as I grasped her hand and kissed it gently.

I cast her a knowing look, one she returned with dawning comprehension. For the sake of our surrounding companions, I attempted an obvious reply. "Raye is not feeling well - she won't be attending this evening."

"Oh, dear," Said a young lady whose hair was crooked with a pink corsage. "I have not spoken with your sister in quite some time. Is it serious?"

"No, no," I replied hastily. "It is minor, I assure you. But dear Raye, always the worrisome one… She felt that it would be best if she stayed in her room."

Before anyone else could question me, I took hold of Mina's hand and swept her off towards the dance floor. We spun and swayed for a few timeless moments, neither uttering a word to break the companionable silence. The soft folds of her dress weaved around and through my legs as I followed the tempo of the music to a tee. She relaxed, wrapping her frail little hands around my shoulders, allowing me to lead with more ease.

"You know," she began with a slight wistfulness in her tone. "Before we were married, Andrew used to take me dancing…" Her eyes closed in reminiscence, evoking a smile from my depressive mind.

"You don't go dancing anymore?" I asked, tipping her back playfully, and was rewarded with a shocked gasp and a tightening of her gentle fingers.

"No. He says that we are beyond such folly…" Her light eyes became darker with some hidden regret. "I love him, I truly do. But he has changed so much, Darien. And yet it happened and I failed to notice."

I sought for words to comfort her. They played around in my mind as I tested them with others, wondering how to sound reassuring, sympathetic, helpful, yet unpitying. Failing to gather such a wise exclamation, I settled for silence.

I so often had to do that these days.

She chuckled ironically, throwing her head back with barely restrained mirth. "Oh, I am so absurd. Here I am complaining to you about I my /I problems. I have no right to." Her arms wrapped around me in a spontaneous hug, which I returned without hesitation. "Everything will work out fine for us all - it has to. When are the Lord and Lady returning?"

I thought for a moment, trying to remember the last message I had received from them. "I'm not quite sure. I think maybe two weeks."

She chuckled placidly. "They will help Raye… And they will fix everything else, too. You will see."

Her words of comfort left a warn knot in my stomach. One of promises and hopes! I had just been thinking thoughts that swayed in the other direction, ones that entailed sorrow and death. But that little ball of warmth, like a kitten curled up in a thin blanket, pushed away all my negative impulses. Everything I would /I be fine.

I returned her sheepish smile in gratitude. "It will, won't it? Thank you, Mina." But as I led her back to her seat another, darker thought entered my mind. I itched to set it free, wished to know exactly what happened, but feared the answer - greatly.

"Darien, are you all right? You've become awfully pale all the sudden."

I glanced askance at Mina, who had slowed in her walking pace. Her hand held firm onto mine, as if encouraging me to relay my thoughts. I cleared my throat and as inconspicuously as I could, pulled Mina through a side door and out into the dark, chilly hallway and closed the door brusquely in my wake.

"What are you doing?" She queried, not without a hint of unease.

I leaned against the heavily engrained panelling of the wall, wondering how foolish this would sound to her. "Mina," I began slowly. "Earlier today when I, when I came back from my walk…" I halted, running raucous fingers through my hair and dissipating my painstakingly tidy appearance. "When I came back with… with Serena… You, and several others, took her away somewhere…"

Mina seemed to now comprehend my curious string of incoherent sentences. She grasped the lace of her dress, uneasiness beginning to flit between us. "You want to know what happened, I take it," she conjectured bluntly.

I nodded, unsure of how else to respond.

"Darien, I think it better that you do not know… What I told you earlier shocked you enough, it is unfair to-"

"Mina!" My voice rose as my hands began to shake and I rested them behind my back in an attempt to hide my growing ire. "I care little of how she came to be pregnant. What injuries did she suffer from, otherwise?"

Mina bit her lip as she paled noticeably. "She had a knife wound," she conceded quietly, "just above and to the left of her navel. We think…"

"The baby is dead," I finished her sentence coldly.

Her eyes lowered to observe her hands as little sparkles began to pool under her lids. "I'm not sure, as I'm not a doctor, and there is not one that can arrive until tomorrow morn'."

An icy sense of satisfaction bubbled in the pit of my stomach. I knew it was callus and despicable to think such things, yet the feeling overrode my sense of judgement, and I felt it only right that she suffer for deceiving me.

But did she deceive me? My mind went numb as I mulled that over. I had always held an image of how she was, ever since we had first met. But then my mind started to come to a realisation. Had I been the cause of my disappointment in her? Did I build up an unrealistic visage that in reality she could not live up to? Had I raised my expectations to the point of ultimately hurting us both?

"Darien, you've turned so very pale… Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait 'til the doctor has seen her?"

I shook my head, both answering her question and dispelling the growing sense of guilt that was fighting it's battle with my emotions.

With my response, Mina turned on her heel and headed down a nearby flight of stairs. I followed, noticing the flaking walls and unkempt floor boards steadily increase as we went. When we reached the lower floor, we entered a small weathered door, and a soft gasp exited my lips as we entered the servants' quarters.

It was nothing like I ever expected it to be. The soft muted panelling of the walls was replaced by rough, naked stone. The floor, although clean, was cracked and chipped. There were not as many lamps, and decorative wall hangings and paintings were nowhere to be seen.

Mina smiled slyly at the look on my face. "Were you expecting red carpet and white walls?"

I coughed a chuckle at her sarcasm, but could not ignore the steadily increasing self disgust I was experiencing. No wonder my parents never let me come in here. It would have changed my opinion of our servants completely.

As we continued through the dimly corridor, the light began to fade steadily until we were faced with a dead end and a single door. Mina proceeded without hesitation, impetuously turning the handle and entering while I stood half shadowed outside.

I felt as though this place wasn't in my own home. It felt alien and unfamiliar to stand in such a bleak, desiccated hallway.

So, I watched from afar for as long as I could. I watched Mina approach a meagre bedside and rest her olive hand against an ivory cheek. I watched her brush back a few threads of silky hair with an affection that was almost motherly. I watched the delicate features of her face become gruesome and haggard, and her eyes become empty and forlorn as another woman whispered something urgent to her.

And at that moment, I felt a surge of empathy for Serena.

It was then that my feet began to shuffle forward of their own accord, and my mind began to mechanically plan and rationalise questions and answers for my lips to speak. It was almost dreamlike and serene, and would have been welcome under different circumstances.

"My Lord!" As I approached, several women moved aside and curtseyed, uttering words of respect, while others merely nodded.

"Is she all right?" I felt foolish for asking such an obvious question, but found it difficult to conjure any of those carefully prearranged thoughts.

"She is sleeping now…and she has lost so much blood" A dowdy woman of thin build checked her temperature before stepping back once more.

Mina sobbed slightly, sorrow pooling at the edges of her eyes. "Why, Darien? Why would someone want to hurt her? She has done nothing, you know?"

I nodded, truly understanding how Mina felt. I too had spent the whole day asking myself that question, and after hours of conjecture the answer seemed no clearer.

The candle on a nearby end table blew out unceremoniously and I was alerted to the chill breeze coming from the open window. Outside, the dark was unrelenting and not even the gentle, comforting glow of the moon was there to ease the tension.

Something foul was underway. Someone devious was in our midst and we were blind to it. We were helpless and all we could do was sit still and wait for them to strike again.

My own thoughts then started to sicken me.

I sank to her bedside and brushed my hand against her cheek. The clammy surface lacked its usual softness and rosy hue.

"Darien…" Mina laid her delicate hand on my shoulder, urging me to rise. "Come! We won't do much to help now. She needs all the rest she can get. And when she wakes up, we will know who her attacker was…"

Reluctantly, I let Mina guide me from the room and back into the bustling centre of the house. This whole situation had turned ugly. How on earth had all these dramas come to be? First, I find out that Serena is not as carefree as I had hoped, and now I find out that we have an assailant on the premises.

As we remerged in the ballroom, I took a glass of brandy from the proffered tray.

"No! Unhand me, you urchin!"

Amy appeared out of nowhere, ashen faced and inept. She clasped my arm suddenly, dragging me to some unknown destination. Surprisingly, the smooth polished floors slid under my dancing shoes, and both amused and bewildered, I ventured an inquiry. "Amy, to what do I owe the pleasure!"

She glared sternly over a pair of small thin framed glasses and pointed directly at my sister. "Darien," she said, a touch of ice lacing her usually warm voice. "I cannot stand it anymore. You must talk sense into the woman. Stop acting as if the problem does not exist."

"I will… NOT be manhandled…by such…improper…"

I watched, horrified, as Raye fumbled at a table, swaying drunkenly whilst trying to keep her bed sheet in place and down another brandy all at once. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin was flushed. I flinched as she flirted shamelessly with one of the servants, and almost collapsed upon realising that everyone in the room was observing her display of "etiquette".

Utterly shamed, I turned and left the room, Raye's string of nonsense sentences following me as I went.

I was too tired and shocked to thing coherently then. There was no way I was in any condition to deal with Raye. Accepting that our reputation had been ruined beyond salvation, I retired for the night…

I would deal with her in the morning.


End file.
